


Peace

by PuppyRhodes



Series: Can't get out alive [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Gen, Jötunn Loki, but it's for the best, if they had never met, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyRhodes/pseuds/PuppyRhodes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I promise, I shall be swift." What else could he say to the man whose life he had been ordered to take from him? Thor stood up, suddenly hollow. Numb. He walked slowly away from where the now still body lay in the dark red snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace

**Author's Note:**

> So, apparently, my brain isn't letting me write anything remotely happy at the moment. Anyway, it's probably for the best. I'm useless at humour and drama and all that stuff... But I guess I should apologise for killing Loki so much.

The blue-tinted snow of Jotunhiem was stained with splatters of crimson as the few that had survived dragged themselves back to the Bifrost site, on the far side of the vast tundra where they had been fighting. 

No. Not fighting.

Slaying.

The battle had been won, but at a high cost. Many good men had been lost. The battle had lasted longer than anyone had thought it would have. 

Even the soldiers that had survived would need serious care when they arrived back in Asgard.

And nobody understood this better than Thor, Asgard's future king. He understood that sacrifices had to be made for the good of the kingdom, but that didn't make it any easier. 

It didn't make the fact that he had to scout out the battlefield and ensure that no Jotun soldiers survived any easier. He knew that technically they were the enemy, but most of the soldiers were as innocent as Asgard's men. 

They were merely following orders.

He let out a cold sigh, his breath appearing as a cloud before him, and rubbed his hands together as he wandered. His eyes flitted between every Jotun he saw, assessing them for seconds before he determined that they were already dead. The gold of their armour glistened with the snow that melted on top of it.

It was darkly beautiful, poetic almost, how they would be preserved in the freezing wasteland they called home, having died in the battle to protect it. 

Thor didn't dare think about it for too long.

He picked his gaze back up, and gasped quietly when he saw a small shape a little way off in the distance.

It appeared to be someone struggling in the snow. They heaved every now and then, clearly trying to lift themselves from the ground, but they collapsed seconds after, cursing the nothingness that surrounded them. Only when he squinted harder into the mist did Thor notice that it was a frost giant, and quicken his pace towards them.

The sight he was met with was pitiful, to say the least. A young Jotun was lying in a quickly-freezing pool of his own blood. He was torn between grasping at the snow around him and clutching at the horrific wound in his chest. 

As if that would somehow stem the bleeding. 

He was whimpering. Tears glistened in the corners of his bright crimson eyes. Thor watched from a way off where he stood, his head resting on one side. The knowledge that he would have to put this poor creature out of it's miserable suffering left him feeling numb.

With a deep breath, he stepped forward in the snow, approaching the enemy solider. As he came closer, he saw that this frost giant had hair, jet black and soaked in melted snow and blood, which was a trait that no other Jotun seemed to possess. He was also smaller than all of the others he had seen throughout the past two days. Thor thought that he was lucky to have survived the battle at all, considering his size.

Survived. Not for much longer, though. 

Not if Thor did his job properly.

Thor was now standing above the young Jotun, not that he seemed to notice. He was too busy fighting for his life. The Asgardian was able to crouch down not a foot away from where the young man lay without the Jotun even glancing in his direction.

Only when Thor shifted his weight in the snow to make himself comfortable did the Jotun realise he wasn't alone. His blood-red gaze flew up to meet the Asgardian's eyes. 

Thor could see him tense. 

He couldn't blame him.

With a soft smile, Thor knelt in closer. He could almost see the Jotun consider trying to get away. They both knew how futile that would be. If this man could even get to his feet, he wouldn't escape far before his wounds or the severe conditions of his homeland claimed him.

And so, he relaxed, as much as he could, considering the pain he was in.

He turned to rest on his side, propping himself as best he could on his trembling elbow. He tried his hardest not to wince as he moved and met Thor's eyes.

Thor had never looked into Jotun eyes for longer than a few seconds before, and so to be sat there, staring into those stunning crimson jewels both hypnotised and terrified him at the same time. And as he stared, he couldn't help but be reminded of the vast pools of blood that surrounded them, especially when they were twinkling with the beginnings of tears.

Thor shifted his weight.

He was concentrating hard on ignoring the fierce cold that was beginning to seep into his skin through the many layers of fur he was wearing. He was also trying not to feel too uncomfortable under the Jotun's intense and pained gaze.

He felt as if he should say something.

But what do you say? 

What do you say to a dead man?

Thor could sense the knowing, the understanding in the frost giant's gaze.

They both knew.

Thor moved slowly. Deliberately. He scooped his hand under the young man's head, moving his fingers to avoid the larger clumps of blood which were slowly congealing. He smiled as he felt the Jotun shift to allow Thor to take most of his weight.

He trusted Thor.

He allowed the Jotun a second to adjust his body. He spun himself around to lay on his back, and looked up at a point just above Thor's head.

And smiled.

"I promise, I shall be swift."

The frost giant nodded with closed eyes and a soft smile, which Thor had not been expecting, considering how he had been struggling to get away not minutes before.

Thor took a deep breath and pulled out a small knife from it's hiding place in it's scabbard on his belt. He held it tight, his knuckles turning white. He had done this a thousand times before, but never had a dying warrior come to terms with their end so quickly.

Thor thought for a second. Perhaps it was simply the fact that now, this man was not dying alone. Perhaps, when Thor had found him, he had been trying to run away from himself?

From the emptiness.

The cold.

And just as quickly as the Jotun had understood what the Asgardian's appearance had meant for him, it was over.

Thor stood up, suddenly hollow. Numb. He walked slowly away from where the now still body lay in the dark red snow.

His crimson eyes closed.

His frosty arms crossed over his chest.

At peace.


End file.
